The Chessie Games
by odds are never in our favor
Summary: There are twenty-four teenage rebels, but there can be only one victor. And so the 76th Annual Hunger Games begins. Rated T for graphic violence, teenage (im)maturity, and the fact that it's the Hunger Games.
1. Prologue: Team Chessie

A/N: Mockingjay AU. The rebellion failed when Peeta was "accidentally" killed by the Capitol and a distraught Katniss committed suicide. Team Chessie was a group of teenage rebels who... well, read and find out.

* * *

My name is Marlyn Cresta.

I am the current leader of Team Chessie, a small resistance group formed of like-minded District Four tribute-age children who joined Kasha, Katrina, and Alara to help overthrow the Capitol's presence here in Four.

The rebels fought bravely, and we had secured most of the districts when District 13 attempted a jailbreak of a high-security Capitol prison. Peeta Mellark, one of the victors of the 74th Hunger Games, was "accidentally" killed in the confusion. Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, the symbol of our rebellion, was utterly heartbroken when she heard the news, and in a senseless moment of grief she took her own life. It all went downhill from there. Most of the rebels lost heart once they saw that their Mockingjay was dead. The Capitol took advantage of this to send in droves of Peacekeepers.

By that time, we had no leader. Kasha was found by the Peacekeepers and executed before the Quarter Quell even happened, and during the rebellion Katrina was caught in a bombing of District 13's soldiers' headquarters. Alara backed out once she realized all leadership now fell to her, not wanting to be the sole target of the Capitol. None of us know where she fled. Amila, the oldest of us and probably the most responsible, refused the responsibility. So I took command.

Unfortunately, our little rebel force has been divided lately. A large group has begun to emerge, one that fiercely opposes all my decisions. I could barely retain order long enough to give the last, emergency command that we all knew was the last defense against complete eradication: the distress action that spreads us all out over the districts. One boy and one girl to a district, ensuring that if one of us is reaped the other can volunteer and protect them.

But of course, our near-perfectly laid plan had to be foiled by President Snow and Capitol cruelty. When the Capitol had a firm grip on the districts once again, Snow announced that from now on, the Hunger Games would have a new rule. The old practice of allowing a tribute to volunteer would be abandoned. It's all too obvious now, as I stare up at the ceiling of my bedroom. No volunteers allowed, one boy and girl from our team in each district; how could we not be the tributes?

I came to this conclusion earlier today and now I can't sleep. I close my eyes and horrible images spring to mind. Chase, his throat slit, fruitlessly trying to staunch the flow of blood as he gasps desperately for air. The Mad Hawk in a mad rage, slaughtering everything in sight, whether it's her friend Karyn or enemy Jasper.

Tomorrow is the reaping.

Tomorrow, I just know all twenty-four of us will be on our way to the Capitol and then to our deaths.


	2. Chapter 1: Reaping

I sigh dejectedly, glaring at the ground - as if it is to blame for my troubles - as I shuffle up to the check-in table. The Peacekeeper manning the table pricks my finger with her DNA scanner, checking that I am indeed who I claim I am. She looks up at me and glares for a brief moment before nodding and motioning for me to continue on into the square. I wonder why she's angry - then I remember that she probably knows about Team Chessie.

The square is jam-packed with District Four citizens, all dressed in simple daily clothes - a quiet act of unrest, as the reaping is supposed to be a happy holiday, and you're supposed to dress up. Yes, a happy holiday where you send two kids off to die. Plodding over into the 15-year-olds' section, I glance over at my Chessie counterpart, Chase. When we spread out across the districts, he insisted on staying in Four. For some odd reason, he didn't stay with his sister Brooke, who went to Six with Mariner. But that's beside the point.

Mayor Reilly begins reading the dry old Treaty of Treason, which surprisingly hasn't changed a bit since the Dark Days - even though the Capitol, murdering scumbags that they are, just quashed another rebellion. I still listen for any changes, although I doubt there will be any.

But then something she says catches my attention. "It has been brought to our attention that there was a group of rebels that had fled to every district in order to preserve themselves."

_Damnit. They know about us. We're all going to be dead soon._

"Fortunately, all of them are tribute-age." _Oh, no, no, no. This is worse, much worse._ I must be having a nightmare or something. But the entire thing is just too real...

I turn and glance at Chase. The frozen expression of horror on his face matches mine exactly. I shake my head. There's no hope. Especially for thirteen-year-old Brooke, his sister, who he's sworn to protect no matter what. She'll probably be one of the first to die.

"Therefore, our tributes are Marlyn Cresta and Chase Cadlin."

* * *

I step towards the aisle that separates the boys and girls, not needing the Peacekeepers who flank me. They're probably here to make sure we don't escape or kill anyone, not that I would. Yet. As I ascend the steps to the stage, I hear a yell of "Fuck you, President Snow! Fuck all you Capitol douchebags!"

_Oh, Chase. You could never resist an opportunity to turn heads._

We're immediately ushered into the Justice Building, and that part of the reaping was probably censored for language and rebellious content... or some crap like that.

But that's what most of the country is thinking, anyway. It'll take them a while to cool down from the Mockingjay's Rebellion. In the meantime, we'll all be killing each other.

As we're pushed onto the train at gunpoint, thanks to Chase's outburst at the reaping, I plop down in the nearest chair. "Screw all this," I groan dejectedly, "now we'll all be dead."


	3. Chapter 2: Mentors and Man-Hoes

The door opens again. I look up to see who it is, and sigh dejectedly as stark reality sets in. Before this, I hadn't really thought about how I was going to present myself. But now I have to, because Finnick and Thalia, our mentors, are here. Finnick... well, everyone knows him, mister sexy-pants-and-I-know-it. Thalia won a few years before Annie - my aunt - who was killed in the same "accident" that killed Peeta.

Chase just shrugs and stands up, following Finnick into another room. Thalia sits down in the chair Chase has just vacated and leans forward. "So Marlyn, how were you planning to approach the Games?"

It's a surprising question - as I said, I haven't thought about it much - but a reasonable one. "Meh, I'm not really caring," I say offhandedly, "we'll all die anyway."

She leans over and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Don't say that," she insists, "that's what the last three dead tributes said. But you, you seem like you should be able to make it past the first half of the Games, if not more - in fact, I'd be surprised if you didn't make it to the final eight or five."

I smile, enjoying the compliment. "Um, thanks, I think."

Thalia casts a wry glance over by the closed door where Finnick and Chase are probably arguing, based on the raised voices we can hear. I catch something about "not being known as a whore" and I can't help myself. I laugh. Thalia grins. "He tries that angle every time. Some years it works, others not."

I groan and facepalm. "Chase did date half the girls our age last year, but it sounds a lot like he doesn't want _that_ image."

"I did say it doesn't always work," Thalia replies, still grinning.

The door swings open and hits the wall with a loud thud. Chase storms out of the room, angry. "Sure! So I'll just make a whore out of myself for the last days of my life," he shouts at Finnick. "Does this look sexy to you, Marlyn?" And he strikes a ridiculously overdone provocatove pose next to me.

I laugh and give him a playful shove. "I'm sure Miley wouldn't complain." Miley **(a/n: no relation to a certain twerker)** was his girlfriend for longer than any of the other girls he dated. I was never one of them, though.

His expression darkens. "This is outrageous. Hell, even Mariner could pull off a sexy angle, but if I'm going to die, I'm not going to be known as the graphically dead man-whore."

* * *

We gather in the train's television room to watch the reapings that we know about already.

* * *

_This is what they would have seen._

_District 1: Joey Gaye, Sidonie Haeli_

_District 2: Neil Sailor, Amanda Sailor_

_District 3: John Carle, Paloma Tacell_

_District 4: Chase Cadlin, Marlyn Cresta_

_District 5: Mark Dillon, Valerie Tacell_

_District 6: Mariner Fayle, Brooke Cadlin_

_District 7: Harry Kalin, Holly Kalin_

_District 8: Iliad Mayen, Sarah Sharl_

_District 9: Tillan Gradien, Mariel Schalt_

_District 10: Alaric Morin, Karyn Hill_

_District 11: Ty Morgan, Victoria Marks_

_District 12: Patrick Kane, Maddy Barton_

_I know this isn't a SYOT so there's no need for a tribute list, but it's just here for reference._


End file.
